


when i see you on the other side

by hitoshi (dami_an)



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Deals, Eventual Romance, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dami_an/pseuds/hitoshi
Summary: [TW] [M]—Because he made that decision, and he can never run away from him. Not when he was the one who summoned the demon in the first place. Not when he sealed the contract with his blood. Not when he uttered his wish to the demon.
Relationships: Kang Seungyoon/Song Minho | Mino, Kim Jinwoo/Lee Seunghoon
Kudos: 19





	when i see you on the other side

**Author's Note:**

> [Trigger Warnings]: This story contains graphic details of various mature elements such as violence, murder, decapitation, mutilation, dubious consent, prostitution, questionable moral values and ambiguity. Please take note that the author does not condone nor support any of these elements. Wrong means wrong. No means no regardless of how twisted the reason is. The author would like to advise that the readers should take this story with a grain of salt.
> 
> Please read with caution. You may leave if it isn't your cup of tea.
> 
> [Disclaimer]: This story is entirely fictional and based on imagination only. Any similarities with actual individuals, alive or dead, settings and events are purely coincidential. The author also gains nothing but satisfaction from this story.
> 
> (and it doesn't reflect the author's state of mind, either)
> 
> p/s: no, the author won't say no more.

"Mino, you know that guy? He's been waving at you."

Song Minho removes his empty gaze from his school shoes to the school gate, only to find a light-haired male amidst of dark-haired students. He squints at the person. 

Tall, pale skin, thick lips, clad in dark clothes, and a black choker around the neck; he looks familiar despite the emo outfit. Like—

...no shit. Color drains from Mino's face.

"I've never seen him around—hey!" Pyo Jihoon shouts after him, surprised as Mino wrestles his way through the crowd.

"The fuck are you doing here?" is the first thing Mino says after grabbing the male's thin wrist. Furious. Anxious. No, he can't be seen. Not like this.

The male's smile hasn't vanished. Unwavering. It takes Mino everything not to explode into panic. Not to raise suspicion in the passers-by around them.

"Fetching you," he says, and his velvety voice, hinting at his calmness, sends a shiver down Mino's spine.

The similar shiver Mino felt when the male first showed up in his room a week ago, surrounded by smoke. The same shiver ran down Mino's spine when he loomed over him. When he introduced himself.

A demon, he claimed.

A pinkish hand hovering close to his face, separated by a hair's breadth, takes Mino by surprise. On reflex, he jumps back, knocking a girl behind him. They topple like a pair of dominos, a collective yelp loud in the air.

"Mino—oh shit!" Jihoon swoops down to help the girl. Her friends collect the books scattered on the pavement, shooting them a dark look. Jihoon asks, guilty, "Nonna, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" then lowers his voice to whisper, "The fuck, Mino?"

In slight pain, Mino grumbles out a garbled apology. Fuck, his butt. Wincing, he lifts his head. Sees a pinkish hand in front of him. And sees that same smile.

The smile when the demon said, —mine.

The entire defense system inside him is screaming like a banshee. Telling him to run. Crying to get help. To slap that pinkish hand away from his face. To get away from him because—

"Need a hand?"

Mino stares.

—Because he made that decision, and he can never run away from him. Not when he was the one who summoned the demon in the first place. Not when he sealed the contract with his blood. Not when he uttered his wish to the demon.

"Mino?"

Jihoon's voice seems so far away even though Jihoon is right behind him. Too far away that Mino almost can't hear it. That it can't—

Mino takes that hand. 

  
  


...

  
  


"—and your wish?"

"Kill," Mino said, empty gaze on his bleeding palm. On the rune circle, painted in red, absorbed into the wooden flooring. "Him for me."

A malicious smirk curled on those thick lips and the demon whispered, as soft as the wind, "Your wish is my command, Song Minho-sshi."

  
  


...

  
  


His footsteps echo in the house. Loud. But no. His house isn't vacant. His mother is inside. Mino knows this from the heels on the shoe rack. From the sound of news segueing into another channel in the living room.

It doesn't mean the house is lively, either.

Since the death of his sister, the house never feels the same. His mother drowns in sorrow while his father isn't always at home. No trace of happiness. No sweet moments. Only litters of bittersweet memories here and there.

In the living room is his mother, mindlessly browsing through the channels available from the couch. Dramas, comedies, and political discussions. A sigh escapes him.

"Mom, I'm home," he says.

No response from her.

Tired of the cold response, Mino helps throw the cigarette butts in the glass ashtray then returns it back to the table. She doesn't acknowledge his presence. Hell, she doesn't even flinch when the stupid robotic vacuum Danah loved so much hits her ankle.

With a sigh, Mino steers the vacuum away. Probably the sensor malfunction.

The hallway to the bedrooms is dark. The doors are closed. The family pictures hanging on the wall are cast in shadow. A perfect depiction of this family; cast in depression.

Instead of going to his room, Mino heads for Danah's room. Upon opening the door, his nose is hit with a musky scent. He sniffles once, heaves out the dusty air, then takes in the sight of the room.

Clothes are scattered on the floor. Books pile up on the study desk. On the vanity is a mess of skincare. The blanket is left bundled up on the bed. On the bedside table is a picture of Danah smiling as bright as the sun.

The room remains untouched ever since that tragic day. Frozen in time.

His steps are heavy when Mino makes his way inside. He throws himself to the bed. Dust tickles his nose, and Mino coughs, sitting up once again while he waves the dusty air away from his nostrils.

"That was stupid," a voice says.

Mino cracks an eye open. On the table sits the demon, crossed legs, with a smile on his thick lips. Mino glares, disturbed by that smile. "What."

"Nothing." His gleaming eyes disappear in the wake of a broad smile.

A sigh escapes Mino as he falls back on the pillow, dust be damned. He's tracing a random pattern on the pillow, deep in memories of Danah sulking at the vanity when the demon speaks again.

"You can just order me to kill that man now."

That brings Mino's attention back to the man, brows knitted into a disapproving frown. The demon retains his smile, unbothered. A flicker of annoyance sparks within Mino.

"Don't be stupid. I'm not that evil."

"And yet—" there's a glint in the demon's eyes, "—here I am."

Mino gets his point. He really does. Throwing a hand over his eyes, tired, Mino heaves another deep sigh. "I was being stupid, okay? I got blinded by anger and—my mom isn't talking to me. My dad is always away working somewhere and Danah—I was being stupid, okay?! I'm allowed to be stupid from time to time too!"

A beat of silence. Then, "Your stupidity got me stuck here." The demon takes a ballerina figurine on the table. Squints at it.

"I never ask you to stay." Mino rolls out of bed just to snatch the figurine from the demon's clutch. He places it on the table. Neatly. Carefully. In reverence. Such a beautiful figurine Danah loved mustn't be tainted. 

By the demon, no less.

The demon remains unbothered. He smiles. "You sealed the contract. Unless you allow me to proceed with your wish, I won't be going anywhere."

"What if I break the contract?"

"Breach of contract. You will be mine forever."

"How is that different from our deal? I won't be able to see Danah either way," Mino scoffs.

Suddenly, the demon disappears from the table. Like smoke. Before Mino can locate him, there's a whisper into his ear from behind, "Enormous, Song Minho-sshi. The difference is enormous."

Mino whirls around, hand cupping his ear. It feels hot. "How."

"Souls are something as precious as gold. Therefore, once your wish is fulfilled, your soul will become gold dust—the currency in my world," the demon explains, taking a seat on the foot of the bed, crossed-legs with arms on the back. "However, if you breach the contract, your soul will be mine to do as I please."

"As you please?" Mino raises a brow. "What are you planning to do with my soul?"

A dark thread suddenly appears around Mino's neck. And Mino grabs just in time before it wraps tight, digging deep into the skin of his fingers till it almost breaks his skin.

There's a hint of glee in those gleaming eyes. Like he takes pleasure in Mino's struggles. The tighter the thread, the brighter the gleam in his eyes. Mino grits his teeth, fingers desperate to protect his neck from getting crushed, or strangled. Panicked.

"You," the demon smirks, "Wouldn't want to know."

The glint in his eyes—Mino knows the demon means business. The final line he shouldn't cross. Mino swallows thickly, in fear.

"So long as you don't breach the contract, you'll be fine." With an elegant wave of his hand, the dark thread around Mino's throat loosens. Mino can see the mark on the tip of his fingers. Deep and real.

Fine, huh, Mino thinks as he rubs the faint red mark around his throat. He's pretty sure the demon's definition of 'fine' is far different from what he understands.

  
  


...

  
  


His mother's agonized sobs ring across the rooms. Mino tunes them out with the pillow, curled like a foetus under the blanket.

Aware of the malicious glare boring into the back of his head.

  
  


...

  
  


Another leaf drops to the ground outside the window. Mino stares at it, fixated then returns to his sketch. The sketch of a skull, surrounded by petals. The heel of his palm is tainted with carbon dust from the pencil. It leaves some black prints around the sketch. Even on his white school uniform.

Jihoon drops into a seat across Mino's table. Quietly. A contrast to the buzzing class. "Hey."

"Hey." Mino doesn't remove his gaze from his sketch.

"Look, the guy—" Jihoon rocks his right leg, anxious. "The guy who waved at you the other day—who's he?"

Mino pauses, just for a brief moment. Listens to the classmates buzzing around him like bees; it's a self-study period. Then resumes his sketching. "Someone I know."

"From where?"

"A circle." A cursed circle, but Mino won't admit it aloud.

"Like on Twitter? From the circle of a fandom—something like that?"

"Something like that."

"Ah..." A wince sneaks past between Jihoon's gritting teeth. "I don't like him."

"Why?"

"He's weird."

"Weird?"

"He gives weird vibes—his smile, urgh, I don't like it." Jihoon wrinkles his nose. 

That makes sense; he's a demon after all. Of course Jihoon would be picking up weird vibes from him. Unnatural vibes. Mino doesn't say a word, lost in his sketch. Jihoon grabs Mino's hand holding the pencil, tight. 

"Look, Mino," Jihoon says on a sigh. Then thinks how to word his point. Mino doesn't encourage him, nor does he pull away from Jihoon's grip. Then settles on, "You aren't alone. You have me."

A simple reminder. A hint sent by Jihoon that while he's concerned, he still respects Mino's space. And really, Mino appreciates that. No wonder Jihoon is one of the few special people who Mino cherishes a lot. So much so that it puts a smile on Mino's face.

It's just that—Mino hopes Jihoon could be a little bit more forceful at times.

  
  


...

  
  


He leaves the sketch in Jihoon's locker when Jihoon isn't looking. Folded into a small square, enough to slip between the pages of the History textbook.

The carbon print taints the page, but who cares—Jihoon doesn't care about the history.

  
  


...

  
  


The train station is thronged with people. Mino adjusts his face mask then shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweater. The rose keychains, blue and white, dangled on the zippers of his bag, keep clinking against each other. He stuffs them into the side pocket to keep them quiet.

"Congratulations. Now you're a stalker."

Mino doesn't turn, knowing it's the demon. But he can't risk being accused of crazy for talking to the air.

"Ignoring me now? I'm hurt," the demon says.

The train arrives. Mino waits for the passengers to disembark, noticing how one of them passes through the demon. So, he was right about not interacting with the demon openly.

Getting on the train, Mino squeezes himself in the corner. A girl in a fancy coat presses her shoulder against him. The fur tickles Mino's cheek. A quick glance at her shows Mino that she's deep in her phone. Can't help it—in peak hour. Frustrated, Mino fixes his gaze on his phone instead.

"What are you expecting when you see the man? Guilt? Indifferent?" the demon asks. From where Mino can't guess. It's as though his voice penetrates the barrier of his mind.

Based on the lack of response from the other passengers, Mino is positive only he can hear the demon.

"And what would you do next? Would you forgive him if he grovelled on your feet, asking for forgiveness?"

Mino frowns, not liking the demon's inquisitive nature. He mutters into his cupping palm over his mouth as not to let the girl catch his voice. "None of your business."

"Oh. It is my business, Song Minho-sshi." The demon's voice flits from one side to another. "It's the sole reason why I'm still here, no?"

Mino distracts himself by scrolling down the timeline of his SNS—oh, his favorite rapper is going to perform at a club in Itaewon. The ticketing has begun. Mino clicks on the thread.

A text from Jihoon comes in. _where are you, dumbass? your mom told me you went out._

He ignores the text. So, huh, his mom can talk to Jihoon, but wouldn't talk to him. Fuck off.

"Ignoring me isn't the answer. You'll have to face the consequences either way." The demon appears perched on a chubby businessman's shoulder in front of him, legs crossed. The smirk is persistent on his lips. 

A glare is shot in the demon's direction, and yet he remains unperturbed. Mino goes back to his SNS, keeping his balance steady as the train rattles beneath his feet.

"You're being ridiculous. Why would you want to meet the murderer of your sister?" 

Mino notices the man rolling his shoulder; so he can actually sense something perched on his shoulder. He squints at it. Wonders if the man can flick the demon away. 

"What are you hoping to get from this meeting? A change of heart? Experience taught me humans don't forgive easily."

What does the demon know about humans—Mino wishes he could retort without looking like a fool for talking to the thin air. But he can't, so he settles on a glare instead.

The announcer says Hangangjin Station—Mino's intended destination. He slinks out of his spot to the door, with some expected difficulties due to the cramped space. The door hisses open, and Mino joins the crowd out of the train onto the subway station.

He checks the address on his phone again. Ah, Exit 2, it's far ahead. Mino quickly finds the signboard for Exit 2 then rides the escalator, taking the right side to give way for those who are in a rush.

A guy bumps his shoulder. Mino's phone drops. With a click of his tongue, he picks it up and gets up again, only to be surprised to see the demon taking space in front of him.

"...Dipshit," Mino breathes into his face mask, a hand cupping his face, annoyed.

The demon cracks a smile.

Once he's on the surface, Mino is met with the cold, crisp air of the city. He checks the address. Hannam-dae-ro-40-gil. Right. Hands tucked in his pockets to ward off the coldness, Mino begins his short journey.

The city was built on high hills, so Mino has to do a lot of climbing. Famous for arts and cultural sites, the streets are filled with tourists and art enthusiasts. Eccentric fashion and hairstyles. Notable quirks.

There's a coffee shop around the corner. A hot coffee seems tempting in this cold morning. Seeing two girls carrying coffees in their hands, with broad grins, out of the cafe doesn't help too. 

He has money barely enough for the train fare, but fuck it, he can always text Jihoon to transfer him some money. Coffee is the top priority. Can't have his balls frozen, can he.

Mino makes a small sprint for the cafe, eager to get some warmth. Opening the door, he hears a soft tinkle of a bell. Mino goes inside, closing the door behind him. The sounds from the street are muted as the door shuts closed.

After rubbing his arms for warmth, Mino lifts his eyes and—

Uh oh. It's the man who killed Danah.

  
  


...

  
  


"Before 10, no later than that."

"I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself just fine," Danah scoffed, tugging her skirt down. 

Mino frowned from the doorway, at how the sliver of her skin around the waist got exposed whenever she raised her arm. He crossed his arms, defensive.

"I don't trust people."

"Sucks to be you, then." Danah skipped from her vanity and flicked Mino's nose. 

Playful. Bright. Alive.

And when Mino pretended to bite her finger, it never occurred to him that it would be their last interaction. That it would be Danah's last smile for him.

  
  


...

  
  


The air is suffocating in the deserted alley, cast in shadow by the nearby blocks, but Mino has no choice. This conflict only involves him and the man—the person who killed Danah. Killed his sister. It takes Mino everything not to explode right there, right then.

He sees the demon flutter behind the man, with a smirk of his own on the face. Mino tries not to growl at the demon out of spite, either.

"I've been wondering when you're going to come and see me," the man says, his voice jaded around the edges.

The man, when Mino looks at him closely, seems tired. Worn-out. Shoulders sag. Stubbles all over his face. Redness around the rim of his eyes. Yellow teeth. Even the ragged cloth and the apron tied around the middle look dirty. 

The epitome of despair.

A tad of sympathy slinks into Mino's heart.

"You've been expecting me?" Mino asks.

"Yes. I reckon this is about your sister, yes?"

Mino nods once. "Yeah. She—I just." And he suddenly finds himself unable to articulate words, overwhelmed by emotions. Choked on words. 

The man remains silent.

"I just need clarification," Mino manages at last after a deep breath, "That night—that night when everything happened, that night when—" he swallows.

"I hit your sister with the truck," the man says evenly.

Fuck, that fucking hurts. Mino blinks back his tears. He doesn't get it. How can the man remain calm after what he did to his sister? While he loses his sleep almost every night, haunted by Danah's happy laughter.

"Yeah, that—when Danah, she, uhm—" A sob threatens to escape him when the last memory he shared with Danah flashes across his mind. That smile, really. Mino takes a deep, shuddering breath. "What happened actually? That night."

"You didn't read the report?" The man asks.

"I read, it's just—" Mino lowers his eyes, tugging at his bag straps. The report felt too cold. Like it wasn't talking about his sister's death. And Mino hates that. His sister deserved better than that stupid report. "Please, tell me about that night. I, uh, I need to know."

Because he needs to know if the man deserves forgiveness. Because he needs to know if he's doing right by Danah. Because—

"Please," and he wrenches that word out of his soul. Of his core. Scarred by the hole Danah left behind in her absence.

"That night," the man begins, his voice as low as a murmur, eyes away on the ground. He sniffles, then, "It was dark. Late, too. I was told to make the last delivery and—" another sniffle, "She was there."

"She was there?"

"Yeah. There—" the man moves his gaze to the side. To the cat hiding behind a bin. To the broken bricks left by the pole. "With her friends. Playing. Teasing. And—"

"And?" Mino presses. He can't find the demon anywhere. But he couldn't care less. 

"And—it just happened. I was just—" the man stops mid sentence, crouching down, hands clutching his head tight, as though he's in pain. In great pain.

And Mino—fuck, he can't help but pity the man. Maybe the man is hurting too. 

Maybe the man gets haunted by Danah's happy laughter too. Has been losing sleep over her death, and—and Mino finds himself reaching out for the man, a picture of despair, who shares the similar pain—

But the man grabs him by the shoulders, with gritting teeth and eyes—shit, his eyes are blazing hatred.

Fuck.

"THIS IS ALL THAT BITCH'S FAULT!!!" The man roars at the top of his lungs, nails digging into Mino's upper arms. "IF ONLY SHE HADN'T PLAYED WITH HER FRIENDS!!! IF SHE HADN'T BEEN THERE, NONE OF THESE WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!!"

Wide-eyed, Mino is stunned.

"I'd been driving for years, diligently followed the rules, never once I messed up my deliveries—NEVER!!" His spit splatters across Mino's cheek as the man erupts. The strength in his grip on Mino's arms indicates the degree of his anger. "It was the only job I had to support my family—and she, that bitch—she fucking ruined it!!!"

—no.

"Because of her, I lost everything!!! My job, my family, even my son—I even had to scrabble for leftover from restaurants to survive, and this—"

Stop this, Mino silently pleads. Stop this. He can't handle this. The hatred, the bottled-up frustration, the accusation—no, he can't take all of these.

No, no, no, no, no.

"That bitch fucking ruined it!!! Why must it be me, why—I had suffered so much—barely enough to survive and she—if she wanted to die that badly, she could've jumped over the bridge—"

And Mino sees red. Utterly red. Almost like blood.

His hand grabs the brick and swings—

Right at the side of the man's head. Hard.

The man stumbles to his side, but no, it's not enough. No. Never enough. The motherfucker doesn't know the grief surrounding his family. Doesn't know the emptiness in his mother's eyes. The pain in his chest at the thought of his last words with Danah.

He doesn't know shit.

So Mino straddles him, holding the failing hand down, and swings again.

The hand pushes at his check, but Mino slaps it away and swings down again. A croaky voice pleads, "Sto—" but Mino silences it with another swing. Blood splatters across his face but Mino swings again.

And another swing.

And another swing.

And another.

Until the hands stop hitting him. Until Mino realizes he's coated in the blood; his hands, his sweater, even his face and hair. Until he realizes the man isn't responsive beneath him. Face crushed by the brick. Disfigured beyond recognition. The side of the head is gashing open. Can see chunks of the brain. On the ground. On his front shirt. 

One of the eyeballs spills out of its socket, staring at him from the ground. Red around the rim. 

And that startles Mino out of his stupor, away from the dead body. Breaths leave his lungs in a rush. He scrambles backwards, legs kicking hurriedly, completely in horrified disbelief.

Unable to believe that he just killed someone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—he needs to run. To get rid of the body. To—

"Oh no, you killed him," a voice says from behind. A familiar voice. Filled with fake surprise. 

And playfulness. Like he's been expecting this to happen. Like—

The demon.

Alarmed, Mino spins around, only to be met by the demon looming over him, with a cruel smile on his face, and an evil glint in his eyes. Mino's face is twisted in horror.

"Breach. Of. Contract." With a smile.

A scythe in his hands. A tall, dark scythe, possibly twice the demon's height, in his hands. With some hints of thread, or swirling shadow around the weapon. 

The demon lifts it easily with one hand despite its size, twirls it on his fingers and—

And Mino shakes. Shakes because this is the end of him. Shakes because then only Mino realizes he fears death. Because death frightens him.

The scythe makes a loud friction noise when the demon drags it over. Mino has no idea if he's doing it on purpose, but combined with the pounding footfalls of the demon, it screams death.

The inevitable consequence. Time to reap what he sowed.

"Kang Seungyoon," the demon says, in a low voice that drips venom, "It's the name of your master from now on. My name. Remember it for now you belong to me."

The scythe is raised up high in the air. It casts shadow across Mino's face. Mino lifts his palm up, panicked. "Wait—"

  
  


...

  
  


They say death is easy. An escape from this cruel world. Your soul will be free. No lingering pain. No more sadness. Nothing but peace.

Bullshit.

As his head falls from the neck, cut by the scythe, as the world spins around him, floats around him, he feels nothing but pain.

Exploding pain inside his brain, unimaginable, like a million pins inside, pricking every nook and crevice, at each cell, at each nerve, at each fibre, at—

STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

And dark.

  
  


...

  
  


Mino awakes with a start. Sudden. As if he's been having a nightmare. A horrible nightmare.

Clueless and disoriented, his gaze roams around for some clues. The world is dark around him, bobbing up and down. The white column, the portraits on the wall, the expensive carpet on the floor—all up and down. Strange. Why is the world moving like that?

Why—

"Oh, you're awake," a voice says from above. It's the demon. With a grin. 

Mino doesn't understand. Why is he looking up to meet the demon's eyes? Why does it feel like he's in the cradle of the demon? Too many questions, too few answers.

The demon's grin grows wider. "A little confused, aren't we. No worries, Song Minho-sshi. You'll find out soon enough."

What find out. Mino opens his mouth to ask but gets cut off when the world spins again.

And a mirror. He's met with a huge mirror. A mirror that shows the reflection of him in the cradling fingers of the demon. No body. Just neck and—

"Yes, you're just a head at the moment," the demon clarifies.

The fu—


End file.
